#generally speaking i have like a large frame

[nenoname]

What are your thoughts on Hirsch?

i do genuinely respect him a lot (the fact that a bunch of the show was improvised is both horrifying and kinda amazing, standout examples being ford himself being written on the fly and also the last mabelcorn being written in a day) and love that he's insistent on the importance of found family and platonic affection, and that he's furious when people devalue family relationships if they're not directly blood related

but also a bunch of his ford takes are pretty iffy (even if he's gotten somewhat better about him recently) and he's pretty "two steps forwards, a bunch of shuffles back" about treating the abusive relationships he writes cos it was like "oh he's talking about it normally for the panels--" and then that charity stream was basically a cannonball to any goodwill he built up

also god damn he's bad with writing romance and picking side ships in general (tad/woodpecker guy is the most 'picked random names outta a hat' shit), especially when he's fully aware that it gets fans sidetracked from the main points he's trying to make with the series

his current take of bullying and shaming ai shills however? excellent! love to see this when people are going "uwu if we ignore them stealing and being shitheads maybe they'll go away there's nothing we can do anyway" defeatist bullshit-- do it hirsch!!! send your legions of obsessed fans after those morons!!! him openly bitching about how disney execs are a bunch of spineless cowards is great too

[kngrose]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...

imagine a situationship with sevika

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.

But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.

But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.

He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.

And then there was her.

It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.

You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.

You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.

How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.

She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”

Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”

But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.

She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.

The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.

And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 

“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.

You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.

The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.

You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.

The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.

And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.

There’s no turning back now.  

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist to be notified everytime i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul

[lumiambrose]

✰ full house

the devils month - day thirtyone

featuring: jing yuan x den heng il x blade x f!reader

summary: the general's "old friends" pay him a visit, where they get to meet you, his cute little toy for the first time.

tags: smut, foursome/gangbang, choking, spitting, implied squirting, face fucking, praise, degredation, p in v, finishing inside, triple penetration, dan heng has two cocks fight me.

wc: 3.5k

your arrangement with the general is quite simple. he makes sure you don’t get drafted into the cloud knights, despite your family's wishes, and in return, you keep him company. you see, being general is quite a straining duty, and therefore the jing yuan rarely has free time of his own; hence, relationships and intimacy are almost unknown to him. of course, until you came along. your little deal has been going on for a while now; it has almost been a year since it started, and life is great. he dresses you up, treats you to the finest dishes in the luofu and makes your eyes roll back in the best way possible.

the only “downside” is that you can’t deny his sexual advantages, but ninety-nine percent of the time, you’re in need of good dick anyways. today is no exception.

right now you’re lounging in the general’s office while he’s managing some paperwork. your day had been mostly uneventful—that was until the doors to his office abruptly opened. in walk 2 men, one with dark hair and a sour expression, the other definitely a vhidyadara, with a more neutral expression. despite your shock, the general doesn’t seem fazed at all. in fact, he seems quite happy. he gives them a short nod as they enter his office, taking in the familiar room and making themselves at home.

it’s not long until their eyes settle on you, confused as to what a mere thing like you is doing in the great general's office.

“what is that doing in here?” the dark-haired man spouts, clearly unimpressed by your presence.

the general lets out a chuckle, “her? don’t mind her. she’s simply keeping me company.” he finally looks up, doing a one-over on the three of you, giving you a short smile as he turns back to face his friends.

“how unbecoming of you, dear general. keeping a concubine at your disposal,” the dark haired man gestures dismissively in your direction, stepping further into the room, closing the distance between him and the general.

jing yuan steps away from his desk, making his way down to the lower area of his office, past his friends, and to the sofa, occupying the space next to you. “now, now, blade, no need to be so aggressive,” he grips your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. “or are you perhaps jealous? she’s quite the pretty thing, isn’t she?”

the man you now know as blade scoffs, rolling his eyes at the display. "jealous? i have no reason to be." he stalks closer, looming over the two of you on the couch. "i just think it's pathetic, is all. a man of your stature, reduced to rutting with some common whore."

the other man finally speaks up, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "enough. it’s not our position to interfere in jing yuan’s affairs." he steps forward, making his way to the sofa. "although, i must agree, she’s quite a stunning catch, general."

jing yuan smiles, his gaze never leaving yours as he addresses his friends. "indeed, den heng, she is quite stunning. and very talented as well." his hand slides higher up your thigh, his fingers tracing teasing patterns against your skin. “especially on her knees.”

dan heng chuckles, his teal eyes glinting ever so slightly. "i can certainly see the appeal." he takes a seat on the other side of you, his large frame dwarfing your own. "perhaps we should stay and enjoy the general's hospitality a while longer, hmm?"

blade looks like he wants to object, but something in jing yuan's expression stops him. he settles for a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest. "fine. but make sure your whore behaves herself.”

you do your best to pay blade no attention, instead glancing over at the two men on either side of you. the general's touch is igniting a familiar heat in your core, letting sinful thoughts fill your head. a blush slowly creeps up your cheeks.

dan heng notices your reaction, a slow smile spreading across his face. "looks like the lady is eager to please." his hand joins jing juan's on your thigh, teasing your smooth skin.

jing yuan hums in agreement, his thumb brushing over your clothed sex. "mmm, indeed she is. and i aim to take advantage of that." he meets your gaze, his dark eyes smouldering with promise. "would you like that, dear? to have us use this slutty little body of yours?”

your breath hitches, your hips shifting restlessly under their combined touch. "yes," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "please, i want... i want you.” you lock eyes with blade, looking down on you. “no—i need you. all of you,” you plead, catching his attention too.

jing yuan grins, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in your pleading expression. "Such a needy little slut, aren't you?" his hand slides beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your damp panties. "don't worry, sweetheart. i promise by the end of the night, you’ll be fucked dumb by us.”

dan heng chuckles, his own hand joining jing yuan's beneath your skirt. "indeed, we'll make sure this slutty little body of yours gets the thorough fucking it deserves." he presses a finger against your clothed sex, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

even blade seems to be wavering at the sight of your needy expression, his gaze specifically drawn to the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips. "i suppose there's no harm in indulging a bit," he mutters, moving closer to the sofa.

jing yuan smirks, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. "good girl. now, let's get these off, shall we?" he tugs the flimsy fabric down your legs, tossing them aside carelessly. “now on your knees, my pretty slut.”

you comply, of course, moving to kneel before them. jing yuan grins, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in your body beneath him. "that's it, my little slut. on your knees where you belong." his hand slides into your hair, gripping the strands tightly as he guides your head towards his crotch.

dan heng mirrors his actions, his own hand fisting in your hair as he pulls you closer to his own clothed erection. "open wide, whore. gonna use this pretty mouth of yours."

blade watches from the sidelines, his expression a mix of disgust and reluctant arousal. but as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, he seems to discard his hate. with a muttered curse, joins the other men, unfastening his pants and freeing his hardening cock.

jing yuan smirks, his grip on your hair tightening as he frees his cock, just before pulling you to face his member. "suck," he commands, his voice rough with need. "go on, show us what that slutty mouth can do."

you part your lips, allowing him to slide his throbbing length into your mouth. you moan around his length, the taste of his precum coating your tongue as you begin to bob your head.

dan heng grunts, his own cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you service jing yuan. "fuck, pretty," he breathes, grabbing your right hand and dragging it to palm his erection. "c’mon, keep me busy with your hands."

you fumble with his pants, messily freeing his erection, no—erections. you can only spare him a quick glance, given how your face is busy taking jing yuan. but you can feel it nonetheless—two hardened lengths grazing your fingers, and they’re big. you alternate between the two cocks, stroking and playing with them, eliciting sweet sounds from the dragon while you’re bobbing on the general's length.

blade steps closer, his expression unreadable as he watches you work. but as jing yuan pulls you off him, your mouth parting with a wet pop, he seems to make up his mind. he grips your face roughly, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"you want all of us, slut?" he growls, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "then open up. i'm going to fuck this pretty little mouth until you're choking on my cock."

he doesn’t wait for a response; instead, he thrusts forward, forcing his thick length past your lips. he’s much larger than you expected, making you gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat, but he doesn't relent. his hips snap, meeting your face as he fucks it with brutality. tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe, but in all honesty, you’re quite enjoying the situation before you with the three men.

while your attention is divided between the vhidyadara and hunter, jing yuan takes matters into his own hands. kneeling down to meet your level, he starts to tug at your robes. his movements start off delicate, trying not to ruin the expensive garments he bought for you. but to no dismay, he’s not making any progress. he lets out a muttered curse under his breath as he opts to rip the garments instead, desperate to see your naked body displayed for him.

the rough motion makes you squeal around blade’s length, getting quite the reaction out of him as his grip on your face tightens, fucking you harder. the cool air hits your body hard, instantly sending a shiver throughout your entire body. jing yuan's hungry gaze rakes over your exposed self, his hands skim over your curves, his touch possessive and demanding as he pulls you flush against him, away from the other men.

he swiftly picks you up, holding you in his firm arms while he moves you according to his will. he throws you down on the now-free sofa, with your ass up in the air. ever the generous general, he gestures to his two old friends, offering your body to them. “go on, pretty. be a good whore for us,” he coos as he watches from a distance, hand fisting his cock. “you gonna be a good girl and let them fuck you silly, hm?”

your response comes out in ragged breaths, due to the harsh treatment from not just the general—but his friends too. "please," you whimper, locking eyes with dan heng, pleading as you look up at him. "fuck me. use me like the slut I am.”

your pleading expression makes dan heng's eyes darken with lust, his gaze roaming over your exposed body with a sense of hunger that he doesn’t even try to hide. "such a needy little whore," he growls, stalking closer to your body. "begging for our cocks like a bitch in heat.”

he grips your hips, his large hands spanning your waist as he positions himself behind you. you can feel one of his thick lengths pressing against your wet cunt, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate touches.

jing yuan chuckles darkly from his position in front of the sofa, his hand still fisting himself. "indeed, she is. my pretty little slut, so desperate to be filled and used."

blade scoffs, finding his place at your face once again, his expression emphasises the digust in his eyes as he towers over you. "pathetic," he spits, though his hips keep on thrusting forward, his cock sliding against your cheek. "reduced to rutting with a common whore." despite his harsh words, you can feel his length twitch against your skin, smearing his precum all over your face. you lick a small droplet on the corner of your lips, tasting the salty liquid before peppering him with kitten licks.

your desperation is evident at this point. den heng’s grip on your hips tightens as he grinds against you. "fuck, such a slutty little cunt," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "i bet you'd let anyone fuck your tight little holes, wouldn't you?"

his words send a shiver down your spine, your stomach clenching as he teases your entrance with one of his cocks, while the other rubs your sensitive nub perfectly. you're so close to being filled, your body aching for the stretch of cock.

jing yuan seems to sense your desperation as well, his hand sliding up your back as he leans in close. "Mmm, such a wet little cunt," he groans, his thumb circling your clit. "I bet she'll let us do anything we want to her, won't you, my pretty slut?"

replying seems impossible at this point, so instead, you push your hips further against him, grinding any friction you can get while you moan around blade’s length. you don’t look behind you, but you can hear a condescending tsk from dan heng’s direction. although you’re taken aback as you feel something light trail up your back, you do your best to ignore it; you can only manage for so long.

you try to turn around to see what’s tickling your delicate skin. but before you can catch a glimpse, the same mysterious object wraps around your face. its ends are soft as it slithers down to your neck, tightening around it, making you gasp for air. it’s then that you realise that it’s his tail—he’s a vhidyadara, of course; it only makes sense for him to have one.

it’s with the movement of his tail that he finally enters you, pushing into your tight cunt at a painfully slow pace, making you feel every burn from being stretched around his cock. you cry out at the sensation, “oh, fuck!” you gasp, your body shaking from being so full. “s-so big! so full—”

he smirks at the way your body is shaking, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of your slick folds while the other continues to perfectly rub your clit. "that's it, take it all, you little whore," he growls, his hips snapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. "this is what you wanted, isn't it? to be stuffed full of cock?"

jing yuan, watching from the best view in the house, chuckles darkly in front of you, the pace he set on himself slowly speeding up. "indeed, she is. my pretty little slut, desperate to be used like a cheap whore."

blade is surprisingly quiet, letting out grunts here and there as he continues to fuck your face, mesmerised by your wet eyes looking up at him. you bat your eyes at him like a helpless dear, which only made him harder, showing no mercy as he fucks your throat even harder. occasionally landing a few slaps to your poor cheeks. he’s close, so he grabs you by the hair and pushes you down on his cock one last time.

“dumb bitch,” he breathlessly spits. “take it all, you fucking slut,” with that, he lets out what you can only assume is a low moan as he empties his load down your throat.

he pulls away from your mouth, a trail of saliva dangling between his cock and your lips. “open,” he commands.

you part your lips for him, showing the cum mixed with your own spit inside your mouth. to your surprise, blade leans down, spitting there too, mixing his own saliva with yours. “swallow,” of course, you do. leaving him somewhat satisfied. “what an obedient slut, good bitch.”

after licking the remains of blade’s cum off your face, the grip around your neck pulls you up so you’re standing on your knees. to your dismay, dan heng pulls out, leaving you completely empty. you whine out, disappointed in the three men. that is, until jing yuan grabs hold of your fragile body, lifting you up to place you on top of him as he sits down on the sofa.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he coos, feigning pity. “are you that desperate for my cock?” he grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “well go on, ride my cock. fuck yourself dumb for me, okay?” in an instance, you’re shifting your weight to slowly sink yourself down on his cock, letting out a loud cry as you completely sit down on him. although as you try to move, you find yourself being blocked once more, by that familiar feeling around your neck.

dan heng, who makes his presence evident behind you, grips your ass while he whispers into your ear. “not yet, silly girl. thought you wanted to be stuffed full, ain’t that right?” one of his hands is now holding his cocks, aligning the first with the very same hole that jing yuan is occupying and the other with your, currently empty hole.

he pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust. you’ve never been so full before. part of you thinks you should be worried; at this rate, they’ll probably break you. but this is what you asked for, no? so you sit there and take it like a good cocksleeve, your limits being tested as dan heng finally bottoms out inside of you, placing a small kiss to the back of your head. “good girl,” he whispers. “so good at taking cock, aren’t you?”

instead of riding the general as he initially planned, he grips your hips, hoisting you up so he can instead thrust inside of you, moving at a brutally mean pace. normally, this would be fine. he’s trained you to be the perfect fucktoy for him. but as you’re currently finding out, taking him and two other cocks is quite the challenge.

you cry out, your slutty moans filling his office. at this point, you’re definitely loud enough for the guards stationed outside to hear you, but they know better than to interrupt the generals ‘private’ affairs. you’re crying, tears streaming down, landing on your breasts. you can’t even think straight; even if you could, what the hell are you supposed to think about when you’re so full of cocks.

your pleasure only heightens when you feel a new sensation, something wet and hot gliding across your breasts. you manage to spare a teary glance to realise that it’s blade. sitting next to your general, he leans in closer, lapping up the tears that fall onto your plush tits all whilst stroking himself.

it’s all too much, you can feel your orgasm approaching you rapidly. and apparently, your general can too. “what’s this, pretty?” he murmurs in a lustful tone. “you like being used by multiple men that much? you gonna cum f’me? cream mine and den hengs cocks?” his breath etching into the sides of your neck is only pushing you further; the hot heat making your sensitive skin feel like it’s set ablaze. “go on then. make a mess for me, my pretty little slut.”

you didn’t even notice until it was too late, but during the general's words, the vhidyadara man found his own release. his hot cum spurting out of both cocks, filling you up in both holes. he’s a mess, groaning and moaning at the sensation of being milked dry, babbling into your other ear about how you’re such a pretty concubine.

of course, he won’t pull out just yet, though. i mean, the very concubine herself hasn’t come yet. despite the overstimulation, he keeps going, fucking his cum deep inside of you while he whispers into your ear. “just like that. taking us so well, aren’t you?”

you���re quite desperate yourself; the grip you have on jing yuan is much stronger than before, leaving crescent marks all over his biceps as you grind into the cocks. you’re so close, you can practically already feel it.

whether it was den heng’s whiny moan in your ears, blade’s teeth biting your sesitive nipple, or jing yuan hitting that one spot that makes you see stars, your orgasm hits you hard. harder than ever, if you dare say so. you scream out, moaning the general's name as your vision goes blurry for a moment, gushing out all over jing yuan’s lap and definitely the sofa. the way you’re clenching around him is also enough to send him over the edge, fucking his cum deep inside of you as he rides out his own high. and of course, blade, who’s watching the entire scenario unfold before him, pulls you to face him. your tits are on full display as he shoots his load all over them, letting it drip down your aching body.

collapsing on top of jing yuan, you finally have a moment to catch your breath. you’re covered in sweat and heaving hard as dan heng pulls out and makes himself comfortable on the sofa. you though, decide to stay and rest on your general, cock still inside of you, keeping the cum from earlier sealed. he himself is also out of breath, dazed expression falling across his face. he seems satisfied, but that’s not all. you’re sure you can sense something else in his eyes.

your thoughts are confirmed as he clears his throat. “good girl,” his voice is low, tickling the area next to your ear. “you took us so well, you really are my perfect little cocksleeve.” he sends a reassuring smile your way as he tucks a stray piece of hair away from your face. although, his gaze quickly shifts into something… darker as the hand on your hip slowly trails down to the curve of your ass.

“so well that it’s only fair we return the favour…” he holds your chin gently and you lock eyes with him once more. “isn’t that right, gentlemen?”

taglist: @ryescapades @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network thank you @katsutora for proof reading <3

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[heirofnight]

coffee for two

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: reader introduces coffee to azriel, he falls in love - and not just with the hot beverage.

a/n: this is just a fluffy little oneshot that was born from a headcanon that someone posted where it was mentioned that azriel would love black coffee. and like, i agree. and i had to write this immediately. also, hurricane hits tomorrow morning, and i'll likely be without power for an extended period of time. i'll post as i can! pls keep sending requests so i have things to write when i finally have power again. love u all! <3 talk soon.

azriel had a knack for trailing behind you - a moth to a flame, he couldn't help but find himself right next to you whenever the opportunity presented itself.

you hadn't yet noticed.

a newer addition to the inner circle's family, you were initially introduced to the group through your recruited assistance on a job - by rhysand, who had now become the protective older brother that you'd never had in just several short months.

however, you'd first ended up hitting it off with mor, and the rest was history - you'd since become an indoctrinated member of the family, and your presence was welcomed wholeheartedly - you were boisterous, funny, a bright, beaming light.

and azriel could not, for the life of him, stay away.

you'd become comfortable with every one of his loved ones to some extent - they all adored you, took care of you, worried after you.

but az .... there still remained a question mark over the male. you couldn't quite figure out how he felt about your presence.

sure, you'd caught him softly smirking over at you when you'd crack one of your witty jokes. and sure, he'd often speak up whenever you found yourself in a pointless debate with cassian over various family dinners - the shadowsinger never failing to stand up for you and take your side, even if the mock argument was all in good fun.

one time, you were running late for said dinner, and az had gone out of his way to make sure the house had prepared your favorite meal - your plate was steaming hot and waiting for you on a placemat right next to his own seat whenever you'd finally made your way into the dining hall.

cass had just snickered down the table, waggling his eyebrows at his brother's obvious show of affection. azriel remained silent, shooting daggers back towards the war general. that was enough of a response to shut cassian's mouth.

this morning, you'd taken a spot at that same table for breakfast, nursing a mug of hot, dark liquid. the pungent aroma trailed throughout the bottom level of the house, and azriel caught a whiff of it as soon as his boots met the landing of the staircase.

he inhaled deeply, the scent engulfing his senses. it was pleasant - deep and calming. he followed it all the way to the threshold of the dining hall, his gaze finding your small frame tucked into one of the large, cushioned chairs immediately.

you were still wearing your silk nightgown, a matching robe adorning your shoulders. he noted the way the fabric had slipped down just slightly, your bare skin glistening in the morning glow that trickled through the windows behind you.

your hair was tousled, but in the most endearing way. you'd clearly very recently woken up, opting to find your way to this very table before doing anything else.

you stared down at the mug cradled in your hands, your eyes still heavy and tired.

"good morning," he said softly by way of greeting. he began to walk quietly to the chair opposite yours - the thump, thump, thump of his boots against the hardwood floor breaking the calm silence.

you peered up at him, tired eyes slightly squinted. a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes. azriel's gaze snagged there, his fingers twitching with the urge to tuck it behind your ear. he didn't, though - his external expression remained as neutral as possible. however, internally, he couldn't help but let the word adorable sluice through his thoughts.

you gave him a sleepy smile, nodding your head once in greeting.

"good morning, az," you offered, voice still maintaining a fatigued rasp. azriel's knees went weak at the sound, and that's when he decided it would probably be best to sit.

he stared at the contents of your mug for a moment. you weren't indulging in tea - the aroma was much stronger than any he'd personally had before, and azriel thought himself to be quite the tea connoisseur.

"what are you having?," he questioned after a moment, his voice more gentle than you'd ever heard it.

you swallowed the sip you'd just taken, humming quietly to yourself, "coffee," you lightly pushed the mug towards his side of the table, "would you like to try?"

you met his gaze, and azriel realized right then that he'd try anything you'd ask him to - without question, if only to make you happy. even if he hated it, he'd pretend to love it. he longed to make you smile the way his brothers had.

he'd not tried coffee before, although he had heard of it. the opportunity had never arisen, and he figured now was as good a time as any to broaden his scope of morning beverages.

he, too, really enjoyed his alone time right after awakening. it gave him space to sort through his thoughts, his obligations for the day - and he always enjoyed a nice hot cup of tea while doing so.

his scarred hands reached for the mug, and he lifted it to his lips slowly. you smiled fondly while watching him, nodding slightly to urge him on.

"it's a bit strong," you said softly, "i do prefer mine black - without cream or sugar," you added, explaining yourself.

he hummed, taking a generous sip into his mouth. it was bitter, and azriel wasn't quite used to the depths of flavor that he sorted through as soon as the liquid hit his tongue. he thought for a long moment, before taking another small sip.

he nodded in finality, pushing the mug back towards you gently.

"i like that," he decided, nodding once more.

your smile grew as you clasped the mug between your hands once more, "i thought you'd might," you said sweetly, reaching over to tap his hand affectionately.

azriel preened to himself, wishing he could take this moment and pause it for eternity. to never leave this chair, to never have to give up this alone time with you - your silk nightgown, messy hair, and tired eyes. your rosy cheeks. the scent of coffee twining around the both of you, making the air thicker in the sweetest way.

yeah, azriel wish he could freeze-frame this moment forever.

but instead, you both sat in comfortable silence, and the house knowingly presented azriel with his own identical cup of warm, black coffee. his large hand immediately reached out to tug it towards his frame.

you both huffed out a laugh at the same time, and your eyes flicked up to his in realization.

finally, you thought, i've gotten through to him. common ground.

little did you know, azriel had been scrambling after you for months - trying to stand on any ground you'd give him.

and the next morning, when you entered the dining hall bright and early - hair disheveled and half asleep, azriel was already there - waiting for you.

with two mugs of hot, black coffee already on the table.

a/n: yall i have no idea where this came from. someone posted a headcanon where they mentioned azriel loving black coffee, and this idea came to mind immediately. i hope you love it <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Hole in the Heart

Between this and the drunken confession from Leona fic 😭 I must be in my Savanaclaw era… Maybe I’ll write a food-related Jack fic too, who knows www

Imagine this...

There’s a cute guy working behind the counter.

You can only afford to dawdle for so long. Your eyes are supposed to be focused on reading the menu mounted overhead or browsing the glossy breads and cakes on offer. Instead, your gaze drifts up to the employee—a hyena beastman—sheepishly awaiting your order.

He leans on the glass display case, face nestled in his arms, cheek to forearm. His dirty blonde hair sticks up like someone has aggressively ruffled his head. The boy blinks at you with big, blue-grey eyes, mouth permanently etched into a sloped smile that suggests he is capable of stirring up trouble off his shift.

An apron hangs loosely from his lanky frame, and a cap is clamped down between two large, twitching ears. His tail, short and stout, wags like a metronome, in time with the rhythm he taps out with a finger.

Yeah, he’s definitely super cute, you conclude.

“… Hey.”

You jolt at the hand passion waving in front of your face, at his voice. It’s casual and warm, like the sound of an old friend’s greeting after a long day.

The bakery employee lifts his head and quirks a brow. “You decided what you want yet? You’ve been starin’ for a while now.”

W-Was I really staring?!

A hand flies to your face, testing it for signs of self-consciousness. Your skin is flushed and tingles, like flames have been lit under it.

“S-Sorry, I must’ve dozed off,” you mumble, burrowing into your collar and praying that he doesn’t notice. Focus here, you remind yourself. “You have so many options, I’m having a hard time deciding. What do you recommend?”

“Me?” He fully draws himself up, trading his smile for a smirk. “I know just the thing. Hang on a sec!”

The employee peels away and snags a donut from the display case, wrapping it in a checkered napkin. The pastry is plump and full, fried to a golden perfection and covered in a shiny sugar glaze. 

“Oh… It doesn’t have a hole in the center,” you realize.

“The holes are usually there to help the dough cook evenly. We repurpose what’s punched out as donut holes,” he says, eyes glittering with gluttony, “but nothing beats having the whole thing, hole and all.”

“Pfft. When you put it like that, it feels sort of sad.”

“How do you figure?”

“A donut with a hole sounds like a person that’s missing their heart. Some important part of themselves just… poof. Gone.”

“A person missing their heart, huh? You got an imagination on ya.”

D-Did he just compliment me?

Your heart leaps up and lodges in your throat. It’s suddenly difficult to usher your words out.

He shakes his head and turns away, setting to his work. The boy becomes but a blur of activity, and you watch him, mesmerized.

He generously ladles chocolate sauce onto the donut, garnished by a handful of sliced nuts. Then he glops on a healthy helping of custard cream, a spritz of whipped cream, and a big spoonful of berry jam. The result is one decadently sticky pile of sugar with everything under the kitchen sink thrown onto it.

He presents the towering donut to you with a flourish. “Ta-dah! I give you… the Ruggie Special!” 

You gape at it, unsure of what to do or say. There’s no way I can finish this before class starts, you fret—but you accept the donut in a daze, not wanting to reject all his efforts. Your fingers and his graze, sparking a thrill within you.

“What’s ‘Ruggie’?” you ask shyly.

“That’s me.” He winks and points to himself. No, to the name tag pinned to his chest. “Ruggie. Ruggie Bucchi.”

H-He told me his name. You clutch your hands together in an attempt to calm them. Is he flirting with me?

“W-Wow, you have a menu item named after you? That’s cool,” you babble. Oh no—you’re so horrid at small talk, you scold yourself.

“Unofficially, yeah. The boss doesn’t mind if I use the extra ingredients lying around to experiment. Oh, speaking of—” He holds out a hand. “All that extra stuff’s gonna cost ya. That’ll be 700 madol, if you please!”

“700…?!” You startle, as if waking from a dream. The donut’s mountain of topples wobble, threatening to tumble. “That’s over 5 times the cost of a single plain donut!”

“Well, this is a single plain donut with all the fixings,” he corrects you with a snicker. Ruggie points to your Special. The chocolate sauce is rapidly dribbling down, cream leaking into the napkin. “Look, it’s already getting all over you. Better cough up the cash and get to eating it real quick~” 

“Nrgh…” You reluctantly fish out 700 madol and slap the bills onto the counter. “Here. Just take it already.”

“Nishishishi, thank you for your patronage!” Ruggie happily scoops up the money and deposits it into the register. The bills are swallowed up by the metal contraption, as if it is feasting on your misfortune.

Why do I feel like I just got duped by a pretty face?

Your stomach lurches, disappointed with yourself. Friends and classmates always teased you for this. Head in the clouds, too sentimental, unlucky with guys, so quick to fall in love and even quicker to have your heart broken—all phrases they used to describe you.

Someone absolutely hopeless in their flights of fancy. A donut wandering around with a hole where their heart should be, seeking what they lack.

You flush deeper. Maybe I’m proving them right. I’m seeing things that aren’t there.

“W-Well, thank you for your recommendation,” you say hurriedly.

“No prob,” he replies with the tip of his hat. “All in a day’s work.”

A day’s work, duh. Stupid, stupid. He was only buttering you up to swindle you into a sale.

The donut is oozing into your palm now. You frown and attempt to mop what is spilling with your tongue. Ruggie laughs a little—and you’re not sure if he’s laughing with you or laughing at you. Truthfully, you don’t know which you’d prefer.

“Need more napkins?” he offers, a wad of them at the ready. “These’re free.”

“Th-Thank you,” you mutter, grabbing them with your free (clean) hand. “I have to get going, or I’ll be late.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t they all?”

You gather yourself, hurrying to the door and flinging yourself through. It swings as you exit, the bell above jingling and ringing out your departure. The warm, comforting smell of sugar dissipates into the outdoor air.

“See ya around,” he calls after you, a teasing lilt in his voice. You don’t see what kind of an expression he’s making, but you don’t dare allow yourself to look back and find out.

You try to busy yourself with scrubbing clean. A bathroom—you should have stopped by the bakery’s bathroom to wet the napkins, to wash your hands with soap. But you have your pride, and you refuse to march back in, to have him mocking you a second time.

You wipe at your thumb, but the napkin catches and sticks at the corner. There’s a blot there, dark-colored and bleeding.

… Huh? What’s that?

You lift the napkin and squint at the smudged shapes scrawled onto it. Letters and numbers come into view.

Ruggie Bucchi, followed by a series of numbers strung together. A phone number.

Everything in you stills.

When did he…?

You rifle through the rest of your napkins, looking for other hidden messages. Nothing else, just the one. 

But if he passed me his phone number, that means… He’s interested in me too?!

Excitement kicks up in you again. Hope, dancing a little jig.

You melt, pressing the napkin to yourself. Your heart practically beats right out of your chest, as if it wants to see the proof with its own eyes.

Ruggie. Ruggie Bucchi… The quick-witted guy in the donut shop, the boy with an impish grin and fast fingers.

The hole in your chest fills, having found its missing part. Whole at last, tasting sweeter than any confection.

You’ll have to text him first chance you get.

[friendsinsolitude]

Is Rui woke? I’ve been chewing on Rui’s (and for comparison, Tsukasa’s) role in the gendered dynamics of Smile of a Dreamer episode 3, the Shosuke and Keisuke v. Emu conflict, for what’s surely been forever, I think I’m starting to get my thoughts together now:

Tsukasa takes issue with the Wonder Stage being slighted instead of Emu being told she should’ve given up, reacting before Shousuke even finishes his sentence about her, because the Wonder Stage and all of Wonderlands x Showtime are Tsukasa’s dependants as troupe leader. It’s his job to look after and protect them. You slight them, you slight him, you slight his authority. Which he absolutely will not tolerate. On his honour and pride and duty as a patriarch. I don’t mean to imply he doesn’t care about Emu here, but the way that he cares about her and WxS and of course Saki more generally is fundamentally tied up in his deep commitment to his patriarchal role (beyond what is actually expected of that and sometimes somewhat subversive to, but still framed as, to Tsukasa). As leader, as a big brother, as a man, he will not stand for the disrespect of his troupe(‘s stage).

Rui then stops Tsukasa, cause trying to assert his authority over their literal fucking bosses is not helpful, and he’s not saying anything that will change up the conversation enough to be worth having it here like this, for the sake of their job security especially. A pissing contest of authority is a contest they will lose; fall back.

Shosuke takes this to view Rui as a Smart Young Man Who Knows His Place, absolutely unlike Emu, respecting him as such and feeling comfortable enough to then insult Emu to the face of someone reasonable. Obviously and explicitly positioning Emu as a Stupid Girl Who Doesn’t Know Her Place. Shosuke props Rui up at Emu’s expense.

Of course, Rui and Emu are alike in their deep commitment to dreams, to whimsy, to making the impossible possible. Rui knows intimately what it’s like to get other people hurt while chasing your dreams. Emu’s intelligence and creativity, her unique way of seeing the world for what it could be instead of what is is, is what makes her so amazing. Rui has seen and respected and admired her for that since day fucking one, and Shosuke is portraying Emu as stupid for it, is saying that if Rui is smart like Shosuke thinks he is, he’ll agree and leave her out to dry for his own sake.

Rui’s arguments are this:

1: You’re pathetic. Someone else believing in their dreams in the face of a reality that can be oppressive reminds you of what you gave up, and you feel the need to crush Emu like you got crushed, because you can’t see that she’s stronger than you. Loser behaviour, I pity you.

2: I am also someone like Emu. She is my equal and peer. In calling Emu stupid you have been insulting both of us. I don’t want your respect at her expense.

3: Emu is a truly incredible person that I’m honoured to know. I’m not involved with her in spite or in ignorance of her dreams, she is not a burden in any sense. Her ability to dream in the face of a world and people like you who can’t see what she sees is what I admire about her, even if you can’t recognize that as the wonder it is. It’s difficult, it’s perilous, and she does it with ease.

4: Stop insulting Emu. You’re entirely out of line. I don’t want the bullshit you call “courtesy” and we will stay by Emu’s side regardless of how you try to demean her.

All of course coated in utterly polite form especially exasperated in the original Japanese, despite the confrontational content. For this entire interaction Rui uses an especially polite form, he speaks the way that you should be addressing your superiors (unlike Tsukasa who’s rude as hell). And then iconically, in the above line, Rui switches up his first-person pronoun from boku (僕) to ore (俺) which is more masculine, largely cause it’s ruder, and implies a sort of haughtiness even. To my understanding, you wouldn’t say ore in a formal context in real life, but these characters don’t switch up their personal pronoun depending on who they’re talking to like speakers do in real life anyway, so for Rui to switch it up for something ruder in this situation is really fun. Especially while he keeps the ultra formal sentence structure. It’s kinda like “I (<- fucking awesome) must insist that you cut that shit out. /humble” okay well I don’t believe you. The contrast makes it feel like Rui doesn’t actually respect who he’s speaking to, but is keeping the politeness perfunctorily, and is letting you know. More than anything else it’s very steely, very serious, you will listen to his point if it kills you /polite.

Honestly, largely cause of Rui dropping the ore, I’ve never quite known what to make of the nuances of this line. By switching up his first-person pronoun to something even more masculine, is Rui drawing attention to himself specifically, pulling status as a man? Like, if it’s “stop insulting my (/masc) friends like this” is it “stop insulting my [someone you should respect’s] friends [WxS or the concept of Rui’s friends at large as contrasted to the specifity of talking about Emu in previous lines] like this” and therefore a sort of patriarchal claim on WxS and Emu like “fuck with my troupe and you fuck with me”? In the Japanese line though, Rui says oretachi (俺達), -tachi (達) being a suffix that turns a term of address into a plural, referring to a group, like “and everyone” pretty much. So here, Rui’s saying our, instead of my. Basically the original line is something like “I humbly urge you to stop insulting our friend” which is mostly relevant for how the subjects of the sentence have changed from presumably [Rui] and [Rui’s friends, including Emu and probably WxS at large], into [Rui, Tsukasa, and Nene, as WxS] and [Emu, a part of WxS, a friend and colleague].

So I think the emphasis in this sentence is not on Rui, but on WxS, as Emu’s friends, as a rejection of the premise of Shosuke’s barrage being reasons to cut Emu loose, given out of courtesy, for any sensible person would be through with her dreaming. They will stand by her as her equals, as people chasing the same dream. Shosuke does not have an ally in any of them. And I think the point of Rui’s use of ore here, as something forceful and somewhat disrespectful to say, is to be the nail in the coffin for Rui rejecting Shosuke’s premise of him being a Smart Young Man Who Knows His Place that will be reasonable and agree with the unreasonable disrespect he’s aiming at Emu. Shut the fuck up, basically.

Also, addition from the future, I realized that Rui’s final line here directly echoes Shosuke’s “We’re through dealing with you!” above, and Rui’s use of oretachi here is him almost explicitly throwing Shosuke’s own words back in his face. This is Shosuke’s line, with the original Japanese text, romaji, literal word by word meaning, and my own rough translation:

これ以上俺達を巻きこむな!

Koreijou oretachi o makikomu na!

[any more] [I and everyone] [involve] [negation]!

“Don’t involve us anymore!”

And for comparison, this is Rui’s line:

これ以上俺達の仲間を侮辱するのは、やめて頂きたい

Koreijou oretachi no nakama o bujokusuru no wa, yamete itadakitai

[any more] [I and everyone] [‘s friend] [insult], [stop] [I want you to /humble]

“I must insist that you stop insulting our friend any further.”

Rui is throwing Shosuke’s own words back in his face, getting on his level, using the exact same opening and sentence structure, only politer. Earlier, in “We’re in their employ. This isn’t the right time or place to discuss this,” the very sentence that made Shosuke think Rui “had his head on straight,” Rui had used bokutachi. Mirroring Shosuke’s use of ore here is a fucking insult for which Shosuke absolutely has the context for. “We are not the same, none of us will tolerate you demeaning Emu, and to illustrate this, I’ll use your own goddamn words.” Rui was cooking for real.

Rui’s whole argument is a really good response, insicive, all-encompassing, and leaving no room for further argument. I also think it’s notable how Rui doesn’t cede any of Emu’s ground here, something really quite incredibly rare for men arguing on behalf of women. I think most any other guy *cough* would’ve agreed with Shosuke’s premise to some extent, that Emu does have her head in the clouds too much sometimes, or that there’s any context or blood relation or gender dynamic that would make anyone saying that to her okay to any extent.

In Tsukasa’s 2☆ side story 1, Tsukasa’s ire is directed at Emu’s brothers on the basis of them failing their roles as brothers. He cedes ground to the idea that for matter of being family and all families being different, if there was a good reason for it, slighting Emu to some extent could have been okay, this was just too far. Tsukasa places the emphasis of why this behaviour was wrong on being “disgraceful for an older brother”, immediately preceded by Saki placing the emphasis on Emu “not deserving being treated like that.” This is discharitable to an extent, but like, hmmmmmm 🤨 ? Obviously, the idea of what a “good big brother” is is incredibly important to Tsukasa, and this, which grates at that so fundamentally is gonna piss him off and lead his thoughts to that angle specifically. And his takeway is gonna be that Shosuke and Keisuke are doing “brother” Wrong, and not that for matter of having bought into the patriarchy they believe themselves better and smarter and more Serious than Emu, entirely refusing to see her intelligence on the basis of her being Pink even though Emu’s fucking incredible. If Tsukasa were the one to engage Shosuke in the moment instead of Rui, he would’ve done a shit job.

And think also of Akito arguing with Shin-ei about Ena in Insatiable Pale Colour. A similar situation of a patriarch disparaging a younger girl for being less strong, intelligent, and serious than he, on what amounts to the basis of her being a woman. Give up before you get hurt (said while hurting you). While arguing that Shin-ei maybe shouldn’t have called Ena’s art worthless and that she should give up, that Ena doesn’t want him to protect her from suffering by hurting her preemptively, Akito says (paraphrasing) “Yeah Ena’s not as good as you, she’s hysteric and prone to overreacting so she would have it rough, but even I think you went too far.” Like. Even while arguing on her behalf, Akito is incapable of not throwing her under the bus.

The examples above to illustrate a negative, Rui’s argument on Emu’s behalf is refreshing. He cedes no ground to the idea that she’s anything other than amazing on her own talent, nor that he’s better or smarter or more serious than her in any way despite Shosuke’s presumptive implication, nor that insulting her is acceptable behaviour in any context, nor that it’s unacceptable because of her relation to a man responsible for her. Put some respect on her name, because her name deserves respect. It’s nice.

[a-library-of-old]

I've gotten the Lux Imperator brain worms yall, if anyone has hc reqs plz send em in!

Now then under the cut are general hcs I have of him/him with a partner

- First off he mellows out considerably when freed from the cinema, call it the warmth of the suns rays or just joy in being whole again but he's calmer

-This said he still deals with toon habits of his like singing or humming that ring a ding song to himself while watching humanity and the general cosmos

-Which on that subject he loves humans! He thinks we are so silly but also he loves how we make so many forms of light, such as atomic bombs to the light of a space shift going into orbit and just plain electricity and fire!

-He really likes space in general to be honest, don't think it was a coincidence he was in the 1950's when the space race was happening yall (I think it was)

-Now with this all said he can become more 'real' again by concentrating light to form himself or rather his toonish body he prefers when he gets bored and wants to mess about somewhere

-He still says the 'what a fine and dandy day, who might you be?' Schtick which is how he'll introduce himself to you as well even if he's been watching you a bit before this and even though he knows this was gonna be out of the ordinary

-He just loves making grand entrances what can he say

-That said when he gets interested in a human he gets INTERESTED not full on yandere but enough you're not getting away

-He is a God after all, he's not above using his powers to his advantage

-Speaking off he toon logics so many things from fake cartoon hearts around his head as he looks at you lovingly to pulling out a cartoonishly large item from his jacket pocket because you asked for it

-He prefers you call him Lux over Mr. Ring-a-ding

-He'll take you stargazing at night and nerd out so much about the different constellations!!!

-Really everything with him will feel very 'go go go no time for breaks we gotta keep moving' because he's so high energy but also because compared to his immortality you're just a blip for him, something he'll blink and miss

-He'll never tell you this but that's why he's trying to squeeze out every moment with you he can to enjoy life with you, because sure he's everywhere and no where at all times but he just wants to be with you

-I think he'd like older cartoons to, like real old school cartoons with 'Who framed Roger rabit' being the only 'new' film he'll watch

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Regarding the post about Marinette being punished for trusting people and the response to it, this is something I always have trouble explaining because it sounds callous? But fictional characters aren't people. It's not that their lives just so happen to get in the way leading to something bad happened the writers decided that should happen, and it's important that you stop and ask WHY this happens. If the camera is "on" per se, people assume it's relevant and will tie into something larger. So like if the camera is on and all we see is Alya revealing her identity and then the result is she's outed in the same way she was in Heroes Day, the audience naturally concludes it's connected and thus realizes the lesson is either "Alya learns she shouldn't share her identity" OR "Marinette learns she shouldn't trust people" or both.

Secret identities are a great example of this phenomenon. We're NOT shown every time a villain's plan is foiled because they didn't know the heroe's identity, we ARE shown every time a heroe's identity causes friction in their lives. As such, large parts of the audience think of secret identites as inconveniences because that's what's shown (not just in Miraculous Ladybug, in tons of other shows)

Like you are supposed to make connections in Television about what's being shown to you that no one would make in real life (or at the very least no one SHOULD make in real life) because there's a limited space to tell the story and the audience is assuming the writers aren't wasting our time.

If these were real people it would be unreasonable to say because people have their own lives Marinette can't trust them, but in a story where Marinette is the main character who is explicitly always supposed that's. An accurate way to read the story!

And I also understand that this is a very boring construction if you're making headcanons or thinking about these characters! But that's a different lens, it doesn't make the broader writing lens invalid. You're speaking different languages at that point.

Anyway I hope that helps someone, that's my two cents

You summed it up perfectly! There's a ton of valid criticism to be had of Miraculous, but you can tell from the narrative framing that almost all of it comes down to writing choices and not things that are supposed to be seen as in-universe issues even though a lot of fans treat them as such. It's really weird to see things like people complaining about everything revolving around Marinette as if it's a personal flaw of hers and not the result of her being the main character in a fictional world. "Main Character Syndrome" literally pulls its name from the fact that this is how main characters work in a lot of media. It's a flaw when a real person does it, but in terms of story telling, it's extremely normal - and often good story telling - to have everything revolve around your main character or a core cast.

The issue with Miraculous is that they chose a lot of poor conflicts if they wanted Marinette to be the one and only main character, but that's not her fault. She didn't decide to have the rules around identities make no sense. The writers did. She didn't decide to make the main villain Adrien's dad while also keeping Adrien from being involved in the story. The writers did. The list goes on and on and, because none of it reflects badly on Marinette in the writers' eyes, the show doesn't act like Marinette is in the wrong. Remember, these are the same writers who think that Derision was a great episode that added depth to Marinette instead of destroying her character and making her look unhinged. Their judgement is clearly a little skewed.

While the writers love to make bad plot choices, they are generally using proper story telling language to make those choices, which is why I can tell you how characters' actions are intended to be read. The Rena Furtive and Nino example is a great one because it allows me to show that the writers do understand how to set things up. In fact, once they've decided that they're going to do a thing, they pretty much always set it up at a basic level. It's rarely spectacular and often frustrating, but it's never shocking.

In Rocketear, Alya promises Marinette that Nino will never learn about Rena Furtive. The episode then ends with her breaking that promise via the following exchange:

Alya: (sighs) I'm still Rena Rouge. (Nino gasps.) But now I'm in hiding and that's why Ladybug asked me not to tell anyone. Nino: But why are you telling me if no one's supposed to know? Is Ladybug cool with this? Alya: I can't hide it from you, because I love you, Nino, and we share everything.

Look at how this confession is presented. Look at what the dialogue focuses on. When Marinette confessed her identity to Alya, it was all about the confession and supporting Marinette. There was no discussion of this being a problem for Chat Noir or anything like that because - in the writers' eyes - that wasn't a problem for some reason. This is why Chat Noir almost instantly absolves Ladybug of blame once he finds out about the identity reveal (see: Hack-San.) The writers didn't want it to be an issue so it wasn't:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right

But when Alya confesses her identity to Nino, the conversation is not just about her confession. It's about her confession and how she's not supposed to do this. That's why Nino's response is not loving support. Instead, he asks if this is a good idea and if Ladybug knows.

These things are getting focused on because the writers are telling you that this is a bad thing. It's supposed to feel ominous. When I first watched Rocketear, I assumed that the season was going to end with Gabriel getting the fox off of Alya due to Nino because that was an obvious way to raise the stakes and they'd just heavily implied that Nino knowing would be a bad thing. I was, unfortunately, right. The only on screen consequence of Nino knowing is that he outs Alya to everyone in an incredibly forced series of events (see: Strikeback):

(Ryuko successfully prevents the Roue de Paris from hitting them, yet, it flies to the direction where Rena Furtive is. This causes Carapace to panic.) Carapace: Rena! (takes out his shield) Shell-ter! (Carapace's superpower successfully prevents the Ferris wheel from hitting Rena Furtive on top of the Tour Montparnasse. But the information of Rena Furtive's active status shocks the heroes, as well as Shadow Moth.) The heroes: Rena?! Shadow Moth: (from the top of the Eiffel Tower) She's still active?

Of course the Ferris Wheel goes straight for Alya's hiding spot and of course Nino screams her name before casting his power and of course the villain overhears it. It's all so forced and unnatural, which should make it glaringly obvious how much the writers wanted this to happen. This wasn't something they were kind of forced to do because it made sense for the narrative and they wanted to tell a good story. Instead, they wrote an awkward series of events because they really, really, really wanted Nino knowing to be a bad thing that outs Alya so that Marinette loses all of the miraculous even though none of this makes much sense.

How the hell did Gabriel hear Nino's shout from so far away? Is he able to overhear everything the heroes are saying? How does Nino even know that Alya is hiding there? And since when was a Ferris Wheel a threat to these guys? Your girlfriend is a magical girl and she's in her magical girl form, dude. You could drop a building on her and she'd be fine, a thing you have to know because this scene literally goes on to have Chat Noir go flying into a building, hitting it so hard the cement literally cracks, and no one really cares. I guess it's fine if Adrien is a punching bag, but Alya must be protected at all costs...

Anyway, while the above series of events was annoying, none of it was surprising. In fact, it would have all be perfectly predictable even if Alya outing herself was that treated as a more neutral event. Her choice leading to bad things falls perfectly in line with a truly bizarre running theme in the show: outing your identity to the person you love romantically is a bad thing that leads to bad consequences. That's why Chat Blanc and Ephemeral ended the world and why Nino knowing cost Ladybug the fox and why the character they call Joan of Arc has to give up her miraculous to be with her love and why the Kwami's have this absolutely asinine dialogue in Kwamis' Choice:

Plagg: Sugarcube! Having to force them to choose between love and their mission is just awful! Maybe Master Fu was wrong to choose them. Tikki: No, they’re made for each other. Love is what gives them their strength. Plagg: But the impossible part of that love is destroying them, and I know a thing or two about destruction. Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do? Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must… free them of us.

This is the voice of the author telling you that outing the identities is not and never will be a good choice for the love square. Never mind that Alya is allowed to know Marinette's identity or that Gabriel finding out is what actually ended the world in the alternate timelines or that Felix outted himself in public but is still wielding or that freaking Gabriel was allowed to know half of the temp heroes' identities while they were still actively wielding. For some reason, those things don't matter to the narrative, probably because romantic love wasn't involved. The "identity reveals are a bad thing" rule only seems to apply when romantic love is a key element to the point where it's a reoccurring theme in this supposed power of love show.

[chevelleneech]

The post I just reblogged reminded me of how much Jimin and Jungkook have a brat/brat-entertainer dynamic, and kind of always has, with JK being the brat and Jimin loving every bit of it.

And it led to another thought of mine, where I constantly say I think a large portion of Jikook fans have a very narrow view of their bond. Because JK is taller, stronger, and darker in his aesthetic, he is constantly framed as this protector of Jimin’s. Which is fine to an extent, because we have seen that dynamic between them. We know Jimin likes feeling protected by Jungkook, and we’ve seen JK take the lead between them and guide Jimin through a crowd or whatever. It is clear that is part of what endears them to one another.

However… what that gifset and what Are You Sure? in general reminded me of it maybe even made me realize in a way, is that I don’t think a lot of Jikookers see just how wanting Jungkook is of Jimin in a comforting role. I’ve for sure seen it discussed that Jimin is JK’s person and safe space to land when he’s feeling overwhelmed, but, and I’ve mentioned this before, it seems as if Jungkook enjoys being “something” Jimin can sink his claws into, so to speak.

Jungkook is so bratty toward Jimin it’s not even funny. He argues for the hell of it, he taunts and teases, he pokes and pushes his buttons, only to then cackle and be the happiest he’s ever been when Jimin snaps at him. He loves getting Jimin to bite back. He also loves being in Jimin’s space as we’ve seen in hours worth of footage, but there’s also the questionable pattern of him being “tagged” as Jimin’s. The not-his-initials-initials tattoo, the not-a-hickey-hickey, his name written in sunscreen on his body… I mean… I won’t say it means something, but again, it’s a pattern.

Point is, Jungkook is so much more the softer half of their dynamic than so many people seem to accept. Jimin is of course as soft and gentle and has his moments of wanting to be wrapped up in JK, but it’s not the same, I don’t think. Jimin tends to want affection and attention at certain times, whereas Jungkook seems to simply be that way. Maybe it’s because he’s the maknae? I don’t know, but he the end result is never the same with the other members.

He can bratty toward Yoongi, but Yoongi doesn’t bite back the way Jimin does. He lets JK do whatever he wants, and sort of just coos at him and they go one about their day. JK is can also be very cuddly with Hobi, but is never questionably touchy. He also bickers with Jin, but they have more of a physical banter. They play fight all the time, which isn’t really part of his bantering with Jimin.

So I honestly think it’s just that Jungkook loves being the center of Jimin’s attention. He will always care for and protect Jimin when he needs it, but outside of taking up that position when the time calls, it really seems as if their dynamic is rooted in Jungkook being the center of their relationship. Not in a bad way, but I feel like it’s more common to see people say Jimin is the doted on one based on the “Jungkook is the protecter” angle, but when you look at everything altogether, it really seems to be the other way around.

[sunniepoo]

jj had spent a fair amount of time doing odd jobs all over different states but when his stay in an isolated,closed off community extends longer than expected, he can’t help but notice you; preachers daughter

when the storm outside brewed further, jj knew that he wouldn’t be able to travel for a while until everything was cleared up. the rough clash of the branches against the paley tinted window filled the air reminded him of the ongoing war of weathers outside, his eyes drifted into the endless fields of grass occasionally having a few buildings and houses adorned along the way tinted with a rough grey through the stained windows

he was lucky to have found refuge, the local preacher offering up his home to stay in while the storm calms down and he continues to do his work around town - fixing pipes and leaky sinks to cars and rundown trucks

different, everything here was different - it was as if the place was drowning in an endless silence gradually sucking the life out of the people but they didn’t seem to mind, mumbling on something about this is the way god had wanted them to live. it terrified him to start, being stuck somewhere like this; despite all his struggles back home in kildare at least it had life, friends,colour but the pay was quite generous and a couple weeks more couldn’t hurt him

“storms creating a right mess” the older man speaks, he was dressed in a dark cloak covering his body with a large cross necklaces adorning his neck. “s’gonna take a while for all the roads to clear up” jj replies, he would be lying if didn’t say the man in front of him didn’t intimidate him - he possessed the same loneliness that swarmed the rest of this town but he had offered up his home, gave him a hot meal; so he couldn’t be all that bad

at first he didn’t even see you, it wasn’t until the soft creak of the floorboard, he saw your small frame hidings behind the wall, watching him. the older man watched jj’s eyes shift, following at what was catching his attention “oh! i forgot to introduce you to our new guest honey” he says ushering you over to where they were standing “this young man will be staying with us for some time while he works. go on say hi” while he explains there is a slight look in his eye telling her it was okay. jj wasn’t going to bite

he didn’t miss the slight glint in your eyes as you locked eyes, your palm reaching out to meet his, it was a short handshake but he couldn’t forget the way your gentle hands gripped his, the tips of your fingers stroking against his “hi” it was barely a sound, moreso a squeak

cute. he thought, you looked nice - the kind of nice he thought was only in the movies, the kind of nice that would rather let the spider free than kill it

“well i’ll be off” your father interrupts the silence, pulling you into a quick hug before patting jj lightly on the shoulder “some work over at millers’ house” he begins to pack his stuff and leave before letting out a ‘don’t cause any trouble’ mostly aimed at you. mostly

it was silent for the most part, you’d run off to your room while he gathered his equipment and started working at the faulty sink in the kitchen. the long hours of the day seemed to fly by, he carried on as usual occasionally stopping for an odd break here and there and that’s when he saw you

you’d left your room door slightly open, sitting in between the gap watching him quietly “y’know you could come sit over here” he announces, hoping to have caught your attention “don’t bite, m’promise” the southern ting in his accent escaping between words. the light patter of your steps filled the air, replacing the once ominous silence, you’d decided to sit right opposite him, knees brought under your chin with big eyes staring into him

“are you hungry” the question comes very direct and forward, eyes never leaving his silently watching his every move. you knew your answer as the blonde lets out a cheeky grin, standing up to head towards the kitchen

what you were supposed to do was fix him a nice dinner and be in your way back to your room; what you were supposed to do was ask simple questions about his life and let him get on with his work - what you weren’t supposed to do was be sat on your kitchen counter with him working his way between your legs!

you didn’t even know how it happened, he was just so funny and he kept making you laugh and every time he spoke you found your eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips and the to his hands and the to the slight bulge of his cock in his pants. you hadn’t meant to fall into the temptation, if anyone found out oh god! you’d be in so much trouble, you’d be the talk of town

but something in you couldn’t find it in you to stop as his lips travelled down your body, loosely lifting your dress up to kiss between your thighs, kissing on top of your clothed pussy

“jay-jayj” the breathy moan that leaves your mouth is muffled by the patter of the rain against the window “n-not here, somewhere else” roughly grabbing the tops of his messy hair bringing him up from underneath your dress. you didn’t even have the self control to resist him - you’d been waiting for far too long for someone with life to come to this shitty little town and here he was in a 6ft blonde package.

he’d grabbed your hand locking your fingers together before dragging you over to the guest room he’d been sleeping in, gently nudging you to lay down on the bed. it was heaven, the way your lips collided against each other while his knees pealed your legs open. you could feel his hand sneaking down, slipping under the waistband of your panties, fingers rubbing slowly against your clit eliciting a loud moan from you

you felt shame as you looked at the walls decorated with framed pictures of mother mary, the rosary laying on the desk. how have come to do the one thing you’ve been told not to do? but it was so hard, trapped in this town where everyone had something to say about everyone, you couldn’t help but wonder - if there was something more outside the fields of grass, something like him

the same him whose tongue was down your throat “you sure about this sweatpea” he breathes out, mouth disconnecting from yours - panting slowly “cause you know once this happens…. there’s no going back” you couldn’t help but whimper at his words, giving him a small nod

“words baby.. words” he says before diving into the crook of your neck planting soft kisses along the bottom of your ear “mm yes jay yes yes yes” you were so so desperate to feel the spark, the colour, the life you’ve always wanted and if you passed on it now - it would never happen

the whine in your voice was all it took for him to pull at the straps of the top of your dress dragging it off you, letting your tits spill out leaving you in nothing but your panties

“jesuuus christ” as soon as he says that he doesn’t miss the subtle pout on your face at the name. right he would not approve “m’sorry babe” the apology is followed by the plaster of kisses down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your aching core “just got me acting crazy with all this. fuck . in front of me

you were soaked through and through thighs all sticky from your juices, “she really wants this…huh” it was cruel really how long he was taking, you were so tempted to just shove his face down there already “don’t worry papa s’gonna fix all of this” he’d already began to pull of your panties, mouth latching immediately on to your clit

“so fuckin’ good” he mumbles, words only making you more desperate “ah ah s’good jay” you moan out, hands roughly grabbing at the messy mop on top his head “so good” your pleasure only seemed to increase as his ringed fingers make their way into your needy little hole

the loud squelch that filled the air as his fingers piston roughly in and out of your soaking cunt, you were sure your juices were spread all over his mouth but that didn’t seem to stop him one bit, he was like a man starved the way his tongue flattened against your sensitive core, it had you morning like a kitten in heat

“oh god oh god oh god” as much as you hated using the lords name in vain, you couldn’t help as he fastened his face adding another finger inside your poor little hole. the blonde smirks mumbling “not god baby…..just me” your legs started to clamp lightly around his head, grinding your core against his face. you’d never be able to forget the way he made you writhe and tremble in his hold just from his mouth

you’d heard about it before, in old books that were thrown away for being ‘sent by the devil’ the feeling in your stomach - it was like a rough knot was tied in your stomach slowly building up “jay jay jay” you squeal as he moves his fingers impossibly faster “please jay ngh- need it uh- so bad jay” it was almost pathetic how needy you were for him but it only seemed to egg him on further

he was in his own form of bliss, jeans roughly grinding against the mattress beneath him, you were so perfect - he felt his cock throb harder than it ever has the moment he looked at you writhing against him “yeah that’s it” he breathily lets out “g’nna cum f’me baby” pillowy lips latching onto your fit sucking as harsh as possible while his fingers hit spots you’d never even dreamed of

“yes uh- yes ngh-yes” you were blessed to have your home at such a distance form town, it wouldn’t take much guessing to make out what was happening through the walls. the soft squeak was followed with a wave of sensations, a confusing pleasure taking out your body, causing almost pornographic moans to fill the room

overridden by pleasure your legs couldn’t stop shaking and much to jj’s surprise hot spurts of his own cum coated the front of his jeans as he came undone. the harsh pants were the only noise for some time before the troublesome blond came up lying next you

“did s’good babe” placing a firm kiss on your forehead pulling you into his arm, drawing soothing circles on your back as your realise the reality of what you’ve done. you were overridden with guilt but not because of what you’ve done but the lack of regret you have

you feel a weight go off the bed as jj gets up, arms reaching out to pick you up and bring you over to the bathroom. gentle, it was all so soft - it made you think about when he’d be gone, how you’d miss this, you’d be still stuck in this town with the same people, get married to someone you barely know and definitely don’t love. it made you press yourself as close as possible to him, soaking in his presence

and later that evening when you lay in his lap,his back pressed against the old couch as his hand strokes through the roots of your hair “m’gonna miss you so much” your hands travelled to wrap tightly around his arm like he’d be gone this second if you let go “don’ know what you saying sweetcheeks” he laughs, bringing a sweet kiss to the tops of your head “like you know” you breathe out, clearly melancholic about the situation “when you gotta go” eyes turning up to look at him

you didn’t expect him to say much, it was the truth and the both of you knew it - no one could change that. the palm of his hand grazes gently against your cheeks as he begins to speak, eyes locking with your intently “ion know a clue how m’gonna do it but your coming with me” his mouth leans down to place a deep kiss against your lips pulling you up against him

“really” the excitement in your voice was obvious, you typically would have thought he was bluffing but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes proved otherwise. he was serious. “really. gonna get you out of here” it was as if he was also telling himself “ find you somewhere nice. somewhere where you belong…kay’ sweets” the words eased your restless mind. maybe he was right

and in that moment jj knew that no matter what, he was taking you with him. he had no clue how he was gonna do this but he knew it was happening and he’d rather stay here and die than leave you

[lets-try-some-writing]

Considering family for Cybertronians is important stuff like child support, daddy/mommy issues and whatnot would be confusing to them

Cons: We have your husband

June: You can keep him.

Bots: June??

June: And if you could would you please scare him into paying child support?

Bots,cons: ???

Oh yeah it would be confusing. Cybertronians have convoluted and complicated relationships, but let it not be said that they fail to be organized. A family on Cybertron can be anything from the Conjunxed couple and their wards to a collection of mecha related purely through paperwork, or perhaps not even through offical means. Whatever the case, Cybertronians make it a point to know their relatives when possible and to support one another if able. Regardless of the situation, if you are family, you are obliged to follow certain standards.

Any Cybertronian involved in the forging, raising, or mentoring of a newspark must be there in some capacity. Unlike humans, simple caste sharing and funding is more than enough in most circumstances. Strictly speaking, a Cybertronian doesn't even need parents, just a familial unit of some sort and a sponsor to ensure that newsparks are taken care of. Family units are loose, but the rules are not. Even Whirl would be morally obliged to at least turn up once and a while with either payment or wisdom to share with any newspark he helped create or got himself involved with as a mentor. It is not even a question on Cybertron. The scummiest mechs still know the rules, and generally speaking, it is in the best interest of all parties to follow the rules of sponsorship.

The larger the family, the more resources one theoretically has to call upon. Hence the interest in taking care of one's line. Humans though? Considering they are not functionally immortal and are not given the great equalizer that is in built weaponry, the rules are all but nonexistent. Children do not always have the power to get back at parents, and parents generally do not have as great an investment in their offspring since any offspring are not likely to bring back investment in a reasonable time frame, at least by Cybertronian standards.

The Cybertronians on Earth simply do not understand the plethora of broken homes amongst humanity. Even Megatron, while largely uncaring of the fleshies, is a tad confused when it comes to the lack of fathers or mothers in homes. Children murdering parents isn't anything new. Cybertron wasn't much better once one got into the higher castes. But parents abandoning their young? That's new. It was a code of honor on Cybertron for a mentor or caretaker to do everything their power to at least make an attempt to provide.

Jack's situation in particular gained the collective confusion of Bots and Cons alike. How could a Sire abandon his creation? Entirely too. It was strange. So strange in fact that Shockwave was momentarily interested in possibly testing the resiliance of the human family structure since, according to his assessment, some family units matched Cybertronian ones in strength where others were all but nonexistent.

It was nigh on culturally impossible to fully comprehend. The Cybertronian family is a messy thing, but even for the functionally immortal, there are rules.

Optimus: Your Sire left you? Without a word?

Jack: Yeah. Dad left when I was young and hasn't come home since.

Arcee: No financial aid? No instructional holovids? Nothing?

Jack: Nope. Haven't heard from him since I was little.

Ratchet: That's ridiculous! Your Sire should not have been given a warrant to engage in any mentorship, much less creation!

June: You can say that again.

[orcasoul]

Marcus Acacius Headcanons:

You Take Care of Your Wounded General

Warnings: Injury, blood.

Word Count: 1,576

The thud of distant horse hoofs grow closer as you anxiously await the return of your husband, General Marcus Acacius. Fingers twisted in the the folds of your Palla, you pace the courtyard of your villa, hoping, praying the rider is Marcus. The gates open and your breath leaves you in one forceful exhale as Marcus rides through, bloodied and bruised and covered in dirt. The guards at the gate rush to him as he dismounts but he waves off their concerns without a second thought, as if this is all in a days work for Marcus.

It's only when he sees you that he stops dead where he is, the look of surprise and confusion plastered across his face making you bite your lip as guilt washes over you. Maybe you've been too unfair to him. Maybe he means more to you than you were willing to accept and today was the push you needed to finally admit to yourself that you do indeed care for him. Three months have passed since your wedding and for those three months you'd been giving him a wide berth (as much as you could being under the same roof).

You were silently furious when Marcus and your father arranged the union, speaking of dowries and wedding plans as if you weren't even in the same room as them. That day you'd felt like nothing more than cattle to be traded. And every day since your wedding you'd felt like a prisoner in your own home. Marcus tried to make you feel at home, engaging you in conversation (even though your answers were as short as possible), making sure you had every comfort and even kept a respectful distance (even while sharing a bed, he'd stayed by the edge of his side) after you'd broken down in tears on your wedding night, fearing your 'wifely duties'. Upon seeing your distress he'd swiftly promised you he wouldn't touch you until you wanted him to and has kept his word all these months.

And now as you take in his battered form and big puppy dog eyes your last resolve cracks and with that an outpouring of respect, appreciation and even affection flows freely from your heart. Before you even realise what you're doing you're burying your face in Marcus' chest, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. He smells like sweat, blood and dirt but you don't care. He's alive and he's here. After a few tense moments you feel his muscles relax and his strong arms come around and envelop you, holding your much smaller frame as if you're made of glass.

"It's okay, it's over," he whispers into your hair. "I was so worried, Marcus," you muffle into his chest, still holding him tight. "shhh..." he soothes stroking the back of your head. You pull back to get a good look at him, studying the cuts and bruises littering his face and arms and your heart clenches in your chest. He did this for you, for all of Rome. He'd literally put his life on the line for you today and you'll never forget that. Marcus' eyebrows raise in question as your wet eyes trail the remnants of the brutality he'd just endured. The fact that he wasn't expecting such a reaction form you makes you want to hang your head in shame.

"You're hurt" your voice wobbles as you cup his cheek, watching the blood still trickling down the other side of his face. Marcus' gaze softens and the small smile he gives you makes your heart soar. "It's nothing major," he shakes his head, "Just cuts and scrapes. I've had much worse." "Come with me," you say softly, reaching behind you to take his hand from your back and lead him to your bed chamber. Pressing on his shoulders, you make him sit at the foot of the bed whispering "Wait here." Moments later you return with a tray containing a large bowl of steaming water, gauze, cloths and jars of vinegar and honey. You place the tray beside him on the bed and step between his spread legs, all the while Marcus just watches you, the intensity of his stare making your skin tingle.

Squeezing the excess water from the rag you return your attention to your husband, gently cupping one side of his face and slowly you begin to wash the part dried, part sticky crimson trail from his skin and beard. When your eyes meet, your heart skips a beat. He's looking at you with both intrigue and warmth and you can't hold back the tenderness in your own smile. As you clean the deep wound on the top of his forehead, you feel him flinch slightly but he makes no sound. "Sorry," you grimace, making sure to lighten your touch even more. "It's okay," Marcus smiled at you. A few seconds of silence pass. "I'm sorry," you say again.

"It's okay," Marcus cocks a brow, "It doesn't really hurt-" "No, I mean... I'm sorry for how I've been treating you." Marcus' mouth snaps shut, waiting for you to continue. "I know I haven't been easy to live with theses past months. I haven't really appreciated everything you've done for me-" Marcus' hand reaches up to hold yours and your eyes flick back to his. "I understand. It's been a big change for you and I'm not sure you were prepared for it." You shake your head. "You've been nothing but kind and patient with me and I don't deserve it. When you left to stop that uprising... I was so scared-" "You were never in any danger, I promise you," Marcus' hand gave yours a tiny squeeze.

A humourless chuckle passes your lips. "I wasn't scared for myself. I was scared for you. I was afraid I'd never see you again and... I didn't want to lose you, Marcus" your voice trembled as you let everything you'd been too afraid to admit come to light. "I've grown to care deeply for you and it confused me, but watching you leave for maybe the last time..." your shoulders sagged as your head dropped. "It made me realise how much you've come to mean to me. I really am sorry," you mumbled regretfully. Unable to look him in the eye now, you move onto the cuts on his right arm, taking great care in your ministrations. It's the very least you can do for him after what he's just been through.

Your name, whispered so softly, as a lover would address his sweetheart, causes your head to lift up and you find yourself drowning in a look of adoration you're not sure you're worthy of. Marcus cups your cheek, the warmth of his calloused hands bringing you the comfort you didn't know you needed. "Don't apologise," he frowns softly. "Let's just begin again. You and me, a fresh start." You drop the rag to the floor and clasp the back of his hand on your cheek, tears of relief and of happiness filling your eyes. "I'd really like that, husband," you blushed.

A single tear falls and Marcus wipes it away with his thumb. His eyes drop to your lips and you can see the longing residing in them plain as day, the same longing you've been feeling for the past month. Marcus slowly leans in, eyes not leaving yours, stopping just inches from your lips and you realise he's giving you the control to close the gap if you wish. Excitement swells in your tummy, your heart beating like a drum. You close the gap, shutting your eyes at the last moment and ever so lightly press your lips to his. Marcus' lips are so soft, so plush that you can't help but melt into them. His arms come around your back and he pulls you closer so you are pressing chest to chest.

You slide your hands behind his neck, feeding your fingers through his curls at the nape and you open your mouth to allow his tongue inside. Marcus deepens the kiss, both of you exploring each others' mouths for the first time. You feel him smile as an involuntary moan climbs up your throat. Marcus pulls his lips away, resting his forehead against yours. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, to kiss you, to hold you and take care of you," Marcus professed in a hushed whisper. Placing your thumb and forefinger under his chin, you tilt his head so he's looking you in the eyes. "I look forward to much more of that, my love," you beam at him, kissing the tip of his nose, "but for now you're going to rest and let me take care of you."

Marcus chuckled at your assertiveness. "You're giving the General of Rome orders?" "Damn right," you smirk, "and you'll do well to obey." "Yes, my lady," a deep rumble of amusement echoes from Marcus' chest. You stand and place yourself between Marcus' legs again, picking up a clean cloth and continue with cleaning his wounds, applying vinegar and honey before carefully covering them with gauze, finishing with a kiss to each injury. And the whole time Marcus watches you like you're too good to be true. You've both crossed into new territory now and you have a feeling that this is the beginning of something incredible; a deep and sacred connection that will only grow and grow.

[taxideermied]

What is "prey rage"?

Thanks for the question! And sorry that my answer is so long. I like to yap and this has been on my mind for a while. This is coming from anglophone USAmerican observations, for the record, I don’t and can’t speak in absolutes on this issue as it applies to other countries and cultures.

But in therian and non-therian spaces both, there is a general tendency to characterize prey animals as passive (innocent, helpless, harmless) and predators as active (hunters, killers). And this notion is harmful and unhelpful across the board, but especially, in my opinion, when it comes to large ungulate species.

Most of us (USAmericans) are extremely alienated from the beef, dairy and pork industries, and are unlikely to interact closely with cows or pigs. Given the general cost and land requirements of equestrian hobbies, the same goes for horses. Deer are somewhat present in the collective consciousness but usually as pests or a road hazard or a hunting season. The fact that these animals are capable of violent self defense is obscured, almost on purpose, in a land of friendly milk advertisements and Disney cartoons. You don’t want to think about Bambi goring someone, do you? That might make you buy less merch.

And to be fair, I do think it goes deeper than that. Humans anthropomorphize reflexively. Predator species are often more charismatic and their relative rarity and ecological importance makes the study and documentation of individuals much easier. Predators are usually independent, and when they’re not, they often exist in family groups, lifestyles that are not only approachable but downright appealing to the USAmerican mindset. These animals are framed as intelligent (as it relates to a human way of thinking) and active ecological forces that keep prey animals (necessarily passive in comparison) in check.

So the prey species become largely secondary. Since humans are at the top of the food chain, it’s difficult to properly conceptualize life for animals that are predated upon. They eat (mindlessly), they reproduce (mindlessly), and they are killed (mindlessly). If humans have deigned them worthy of conservation, they become not just mindless, but sin-less creatures uniquely devastated by climate change or habitat loss (a characterization that also hurts predatory species). Their passivity is a virtue in need of protection and, if it’s not obvious, the idea that these animals are as equally capable of killing as they are of dying sort of throws a wrench in the whole well-meaning paradigm.

Elk and bison injure people annually at Yellowstone, and still humans wander up to them as if that outcome is a complete impossibility. And yes, the public is largely uneducated on animal behaviors, but I hear a lot less about tourists toddling off towards bears and wolves, don’t you? It’s like that gif of that biker guy holding his arm out to a horse clearly displaying every “fuck off” warning sign in the book, and the guy gets bit. It’s not just that he doesn’t know horse body language, it’s as if he can’t conceptualize the idea that a horse might feel threatened and lash out and hurt him. Because horses don’t do that. They’re literally nice.

Obviously, prey species will defend themselves, violently, explosively and “no holds barred” if necessary, because the other option is usually death. And this defense, by design, will fuck up humans or any other predatory species.

Granted, prey “rage” is an unhelpful anthropomorphization of this behavior as well, but in my defense I was talking about myself.

I’ve talked before on this blog about how I value kindness and compassion, and partly why I value it so highly because it is often against my nature entirely and is something I have to actively work at. If I feel I have been wronged or hurt my first instinct is the kind of kick-your-lights-out, kill-or-be-killed reaction an elk has when a wolf is latched onto its hock. I have to get them back, and it has to hurt.

Now I can recognize that that is a self destructive and unhelpful impulse (there is no wolf latched onto my hock), but I do believe it is informed by my “prey brain” (among other aspects of my nonhumanity). It is unhelpful to characterize me as innocent or incapable of harm on account of my deer-ness, and I will always reject that sentiment. Further, is damaging to discuss deer and other prey species as wholly sweet and innocent even and especially in therian spaces, and that was largely what I was getting at with my original post. Hope that has answered your question lol :>

[saphronethaleph]

Love Language

“So, uh… Dad?” Hiccup said, nervously, but that was mostly just normal for him. “I’ve got a… question.”

“What sort of question, Hiccup?” Stoic replied, not unkindly – for him, anyway.

That was sort of how their family relationship went a lot of the time, as it happened. The two of them being at pains to be normal with one another.

“So… how exactly do we know that dragons are, uh… monsters, evil, want to hurt us, want to destroy us?” Hiccup asked, rattling off the normal dragon description from the Book of Dragons. “Extremely dangerous, and so on?”

Stoic blinked, then looked at Hiccup with the sort of look that – normally – would be reserved for a relative who’d said something extremely thick.

He wasn’t used to turning it on Hiccup.

“They keep… attacking us,” he said. “Raiding us. Carrying off our sheep.”

“Yeah, about that,” Hiccup replied. “Because, I’ve been a Viking teenager for a while now and the general impression I get is that that’s how Vikings show that they want to become friends.”

Stoic snorted.

“Not getting on well with your friends?” he asked.

“That plural is assuming a lot, Dad,” Hiccup replied. “That… word is also making some assumptions, actually! Though you did keep telling me that all the punches and stuff were just a way of making friends – but, I wasn’t actually talking about my friends, I didn’t mean them, I was meaning to talk about the dragons.”

“And?” Stoic said.

“The point I’m making, Dad, is that… so, uh, I tried putting myself in the place of the dragons,” Hiccup said, shaking his leg and leaning awkwardly on the door frame. “And I wondered what Vikings would think if we went somewhere and the people there were firing catapults at us and shooting flaming rocks at us, and that sort of thing, and… I’ve met Vikings, dad. I’m pretty sure you’ve met Vikings!”

Stoic paused, to actually consider that.

It was one of the increasingly large number of things about this conversation which was not Normal, but he was willing to give it a go.

“...hm,” he said. “That sounds like a pretty good night out, actually.”

“That’s what I’m getting at!” Hiccup agreed, now leaning over more. “Hold on.”

“What is it?”

“Not you, I mean-” Hiccup said, then gestured at someone Stoic couldn’t see.

Or possibly just nearly fell over, the lad was gangly.

“Anyway – uhm – I think the dragons just want to be friends,” Hiccup went on, speaking very quickly. “And that they’re enough like Vikings that all we’re doing is just making them more interested.”

“Nonsense,” Stoic replied.

“Really?” Hiccup asked. “Because – uh – are you at least going to think about it before you decide that I have to be wrong?”

“I don’t need to think about it to know it’s nonsense,” Stoic said, firmly.

“Yeah, that sounds pretty Viking too,” Hiccup muttered. “Stubborn and unwilling to admit that you might be wrong about something… so, uh… what about an experiment?”

“Is this some of that scientific method stuff Gobber had you learning?” Stoic checked.

It sounded a bit suspect, to him.

“Yeah, actually,” Hiccup agreed. “But if something happens you can’t say it’s impossible, right?”

Stoic carefully considered the question.

If something happens, you can’t say it’s impossible.

“All right, so let’s accept that for the sake of argument,” he allowed. “What kind of thing?”

“So I gave a Terrible Terror a fish,” Hiccup said. “Once. And now I literally cannot get it to stop rubbing against my ankles, making a kind of purring noise, and curling up next to my bed when I go to sleep.”

Stoic blinked, looking Hiccup up and down.

“...there doesn’t seem to be a Terrible Terror rubbing against your ankles,” he said.

“Yeah, because I can’t stop it, but Toothless can,” Hiccup explained. “Because, uh, there’s this Night Fury…”

“A Night Fury?” Stoic repeated, then went back over the conversation and reprocessed this new information through it.

“...are you telling me you befriended a Night Fury?” he asked. “How?”

“I shot it down,” Hiccup replied. “And, uh… since then I’ve kind of been testing the hypothesis, that’s more of the whole science thing, and it took like eight seconds to convince the Monstrous Nightmare in the training pens that I was a cool guy to be around. I just kind of smiled and that was it?”

He shrugged, then finally lost the battle against keeping the Night Fury out of the doorframe, and the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself slowly pushed the leaning Hiccup across the doorframe.

Then spotted Stoic, groonked something, and sat on his haunches like a giant, attentive dog mixed with a curious cat possessed of a penchant for pushing things off tables.

Stoic spent several seconds contemplating what to do, then – experimentally – threw his hammer at the beast.

It ducked, letting Hiccup topple over with a thump, then loped off after the hammer. A few seconds later, a Terror sat on the prone Hiccup’s side and curled up before visibly and very quickly going to sleep.

“You, uh… see what I mean?” Hiccup asked.

The Night Fury came back, tail swishing from side to side, and deposited the thrown hammer eagerly in front of the door before making a pleased sort of gronk-chirp.

Stoic gave up.

This was now Normal.

Making that new categorization was going to save a lot of time.

“My working theory is that, to dragons, we’re friend shaped,” Hiccup said, still trapped under the snoozing Terror.

[knight-a3]

Zestial the Spymaster Overlord

Hazbin Masterpost

Heavenbound AU

I went through quite a few rounds of rough designs for this. I was initially aiming for a 1400s vibe, but after looking at many reference photos, I ended up settling on early to mid 1600s.

More notes under the cut

So it's not totally clear how old Zestial is in canon. He has an older style of speaking, but his speech patterns suggest a Shakespearean time frame. Which also coincides with when the King James Version(KJV) of the Bible was released. I grew up with the KJV, so I think I have a fairly intuitive grasp on how to use all the thees and thous, particularly since he's probably been influenced by the evolution of language over time. So I have a plausible excuse for it to be somewhat modernized as well.

I saw a completely unrelated design for this Puritan guy, and I thought it was really cool and used it as inspiration. I know nothing about it, but I found a website for it that you can check out HERE

So Zestial is Puritan now. He was a witch hunter who would falsely accuse people he didn't like. And actually practiced witchcraft himself. For anyone unaware, witchcraft is not inherently gendered. It's not wizard=boy, witch=girl. Men could be and have been accused of being witches historically.

Because I went with a puritan background, his design is relatively simple. It's reminiscent of a stereotypical cloak over plain dark clothes, with the white collar and large cuffs.

The colors are halloween themed because puritan witch trials give me halloween vibes. So we've got purple(almost black), orange, and green. I made him a bit smokey(his hair, and at his feet) because I felt it fit his shadowy vibe, while also being different from Alastor's shadowy vibe. And because I thought it would be cool.

--Bat and Spider--

I know canon Zestial is spider themed, but he gives such dracula vibes, so I had to incorporate some bat too. His cloak is like bat wings mixed with spider legs. He closes the cloak by folding his arms like a bat. And the orange is similar to the Painted Bat (aka halloween bat).

I did tone down his giant spider...tie(?) because it got in the way. But it seemed pretty iconic to him, so I didn't want to totally get rid of it.

--Zestial vs Alastor--

I think a lot of Zestial's power lies in his information network. A web of information, if you will. He's got really good hearing to listen to all the juicy secrets to blackmail with. He's something of a spyder with his web of information. I'm not even sorry about the puns.

In terms of raw power, Alastor is more powerful and ruthless. He's more bloodthirsty in general. Zestial is more of an extortionist.

Alastor prides himself on being an enigma, and doesn't want anyone to figure out what he's up to. In that way, Zestial's skill in information gathering is a threat. The two are actually pretty similar(with their whole dark and mysterious and powerful shtick). They aren't openly hostile to each other(actually on pretty good terms), but they aren't friends by any means. Alastor prefers to keep his distance.

Alastor's overlord killing spree was largely on the command of his soul-owner,[SPOILER], who determined most of the targets. And Zestial is very cordial with [SPOILER], so he is lucky enough to be the only Old Order Overlord to be spared. Lately, he's effectively retired and mostly acts as a sort of advisor/mentor for Carmilla. Otherwise, Alastor would have killed him already due to the threat of uncovering secrets.

--Human Zestial--

Name: I chose Ezekiel as his name because it fits the naming patterns of the puritans. They liked biblical names and "grace names"(like Faith or Charity. But they could get more obscure like Patience, Tenacious, or even Humiliation; and could get even more bizarre still, like Fly-Fornication).

Hair: I gave him long, more cavalier hair because I liked it. And it's not unheard of for a puritan to have long hair. The mustache and beard are typical of the time period. His hair is greying because I imagine him being older. It was a dark brown when he was younger though.

Clothes: I went with the more stereotypical dark clothes, but avoided the buckles because those weren't actually typical for puritans. Also a doublet and jerkin combo, because that's what I kept seeing in pictures.

--background--

Life: He was a prolific witch hunter. He would find any suitable excuse to accuse the people he didn't like. He was selective with his targets, mostly going after people he felt the world was better without. His judgment had nothing to do with his victims' association with witches, because he practiced witchcraft himself. Witch trials were just the opportunity he needed to get rid of people in a socially acceptable way. He was well mannered and respected in the community, so few people doubted or challenged his accusations.

He went after people who were criminals, murderers, heretics, etc. He thought he was justified in ridding the world of these "terrible" people(like Frollo). He used witchcraft to find people and reasons to remove them from society. Unfortunately, he did occasionally have to remove people who simply discovered his witchcraft, even children. All for his perceived greater good.

Death: I haven't really decided. It could be he was finally found out as a witch and hung. Or he got sick. Or somebody got revenge and killed him. IDK, take your pick.

Afterlife: He had to come to terms with the fact that he landed himself in hell, despite believing he was justified and doing a righteous service. But he eventually determined sacrificing his chance at heaven was worth ridding earth of vile people. Now he doesn't have to feel guilty for killing innocent people, because those don't exist in hell. He's come to enjoy the terror of sinners. He sees himself as better than them.

Because he practiced witchcraft in life, he was considered significantly powerful for a new arrival. But his real power was in his ability to gather information. So he worked his way to Overlord, primarily through blackmail and extortion in exchange for souls.

Alastor's arrival and the consequent shift in power dynamics threw everyone for a loop. Zestial is very curious about Alastor's unprecedented rise to power. But is constantly thwarted in his attempts to gather information, which just piques his interest further.

Over the centuries, he's come to accept that there can be a greater good in hell too. He found a like-minded soul in Carmilla, and decided to retire in favor of mentoring her. She wants to protect her daughters above all else, and he respects her commitment to her duty.

----Bonus historical research time(don't quote me, it was just light research)----

--Roundhead vs Cavalier--

These were political factions of the time, and not strictly tied to puritanism. It was essentially Parliament supporters and Monarchy supporters.

Parliamentarians rejected King Charles I and were nicknamed Roundheads due to the general tendency to have short hair(basically a bowl cut). Puritans fell into this group along with a wide range of social classes and religious dissidents.

Royalists were derisively called Cavaliers, but they adopted the term for themselves. They believed in the King's divine right to rule. They were mostly upper class and known for long hair and courtly fashions.

--Puritan--

Puritans broke off of the Anglican church, believing it to still be tainted by Catholic ritualism. They emphasized simplicity and modesty. But that didn't mean low-quality. They believed wealth was gifted by God, so dressing below your station was inappropriate. Embellishments in clothing were not unusual, they just rejected excess of extravagance. There were a lot of other rules that probably wouldn't make sense to us.

Point is, they dressed relatively plain. Stereotypically this meant black, blue, grey, or russet clothing. But that wasn't universal or anything. Black is actually more of a "Sunday best" type of outfit, since the color can fade pretty quickly in the sun. I think the ministers wore black fairly regularly...?

Typical garb for men consisted of a shirt with a large collar and cuffs, a doublet(padded jacket), sometimes a jerkin (sleeveless jacket worn over the doublet), breeches(short pants) tied in place with garters, stockings, and simple shoes.

(edit notes will go here if needed)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

august 2024 episode of octavinelle + 4koma update

You know the drill by now!

Spoilers for the 4koma and the Episode of Octavinelle chapter 12 below the cut. As a reminder, the Episode of Savanaclaw won’t be updating again until winter.

🫵 THERE THEY ARE…

THE SMOOTH CRIMINALS…

The poses in this opening page are so good; Leona sat all lax like a boss who knows who’s large and in charge, Ruggie leaning against the chair and swinging the keys to the vault around on one finger… The posing perfectly captures their personalities and roles in relationship to one another.

Once again, Azul makes many fantastically desperate and despair-filled expressions this installment 😭

Falling to his knees???? Laying flat on the floor??? Man is UNMATCHED when it comes to theatrics.

I like this shot of Azul and Leona’s gazes lining up; it really helps give you the sense of two rivals sizing each other up.

(Side note: you can also tell how much painstaking detail the artists went through to include their eye makeup in these close-ups. Hats off to them for the extra effort, it looks great!)

… WHY DiD THEY hAvFTA mAkE HIM So smUGHERE 💀

damn i wish i was that stack of contracts

… I mean what

sorry

Sorry

SORRY

I got distracted there, what were we talking about again????

AYO they always make Leona casting King’s Roar look so darn cool in the manga 😭

My favorite panel in this sequence has to be the one with the text bubbles. He looks so nonchalant and a little stern as he speaks the chant… The shadows on his face add a lot to the atmosphere of it!

This chapter is the part where Leona gets to sanding Azul’s hard work away! Look at how beautifully drawn Azul’s reaction is ✨

The particle-y effect of the contracts melting into sand is nice 😌 It feeds Azul’s tears… Tasty meal…

MOU YADA IN MANGA FORM IS PEAK

lmao Azul for real threw a tantrum, flailing his limbs and everything 🤡 Love that even Leona and Ruggie have NO idea how they should respond to this.

Oh no, here comes the OB…

The anguish Azul’s experiencing is really coming through. He’s sweating so much and his entire face is so. Er… for lack of a better term, twisted.

I think seeing the blot leaking out from each of them helps to illustrate that they’re truly being overwhelmed and consumed by their own inner darkness. It’s sad to see 😔

We cut back to Yuuta and co. squaring off against the twins!

I wanted to point out and comment on these parts with Jack. He’s not a character that I usually pay much attention to, but I gotta commend him for fighting back so hard and trying to shield the picture even when he’s clearly got no chance of winning. Jack bearing his fangs at Floyd with pupils contracted… 🫶 Very good and loyal pupper! I get the Jack appeal now, lol

I LOVE THIS

It reminds me of the similar Azul-Leona framing earlier in the chapter, though with a different context. I like that this shows how the twins are in sync and coming to the same terrible conclusion.

Not long after, they rush to Azul’s side—which makes me think that these two worry for his wellbeing 😭 THEY DONmT SAY IT OUT LOUD BUT THEY CARE

Oh yeah, here it comes… OB Azul has arrived!! 👀

I MEAN YEAH it’s not good for his health, but I’m so hyped for the battle and flashbacks to his childhood! Baby!Azul shall NOT escape our sight…

The 4koma this month centers on Jack, Vargas, and others (Jade, Kalim, Deuce) talking about using transformation magic for racing.

dhejeveiwhwuow I would say more, but I actually didn’t find this 4koma that remarkable. It’s a generally the boys chatting about animals and their different activities they excel at.